NECROPLASTY rocking out in their garage studio

I sit down with one of Fargo’s finest. A native son born into boredom and evil.

The following in-depth interview occurred September 19, 2011. This is a transcript of what was discussed. All details have been preserved to protect the innocent…

Hello world! It’s Nick here, reporting from what appears to be a frigid and moldy basement (1). I have here with me Gregory Blair, more widely known by the stage name “Reamus”, the lead vocalist/frontman/head songwriter for Fargo-Moorhead-based death-metal band “Necroplasty”.

Necroplasty has been crushing tunes of death, cannibalism, and murderous debauchery for a lot of years. It’s been a wild ride– one filled with furious guitar riffs, guttural screams, live shows complete with fake blood & guts and petrified groupies (2).

NICK: Necroplasty has been recording and touring for over 2 decades on the underground death-metal circuit. Reamus, why don’t you give everyone a little background. Lay the foundation, if you will. Who are you, and what in the shivering hell is Necroplasty??

REAMUS: I’ve always had a pretty bizarre way about me. I think dark. This has nothing at all to do with my upbringing or any sort of horrible life experience. Could I do murder? I doubt it *winks*(3). Can I imagine it? Fuckin right, buddy. Can I write death metal songs about killing and eating motherfuckers? I believe so, bitch-ass. Our band is the scariest quartet of maniacal fuck nuts you never heard of. Since I do shit my way, first we’re going to blood-worship(4) Satan, then we’ll crunch through my freaktastic discography so you can get a taste of the audible mayhem that is NECROPLASTY.

(1) I was bound, gagged, blindfolded and thrown into a trunk before being brought to this interview. It’s good to be alive.
(2) Reamus wanted me to include that none of his groupies have let him waterboard them with lamb’s blood (yet) but he’s holding out hope!!
(3) I felt a draft right then—much like the cold, wispy breath of Satan himself. *shudders*
(4) Reamus chased a cat around for what seemed like an hour (actually 15 minutes or so) for use in the “ceremony”. He never caught the little bugger, so our blood worshipping was thankfully put on hold. Related: I’ve never felt closer to God than I did at that moment.

REAMUS: What a motherfuck loving debut album! Wrote the lyrics during my junior year in high school. This thing was NOT critically acclaimed because, well, we dwelled in obscurity. A local garage band from West Fargo, ND couldn’t scream loud enough. Bands like us and Cannibal Corpse are largely considered a side show but god dammit, we belong! It’s easy to write us off after our 1st album features songs like “Gunt Harvest” and “Human Giblets” but strangely enough, our indie record company stuck with us.

NICK: Many of your song titles and lyrics therein have kind of a comical vibe going. Am I wrong? Do you agree? Please agree with me…

REAMUS: There is a hilarious back-story behind one of the tracks on this album. This happened one day in high school, I’ll never forget it. The wildebeest serving slop from behind the counter leaned a little too far over the fried chicken as I stood there in line slowly dying. This lady was a tall drink of sludge and had no prayer of ever catching a glimpse of her toes from an upright position. She was nasty-looking, OK?? As she leaned over to dispense that slew of garbage onto my plate, her FUPA (Front Upper Pussy Area) rested itself comfortably over the steaming portions of chicken fresh from the fryer and she let out a screeching “AAAAAH, PIIIIIISSSSS, I’VE BEEN FRIED!!!”. The old hag knocked over an entire tray of tomato soup on her way to the back room! Thus, the song “Fried Fupa” was born.

NICK: Unreal! I went to West Fargo High School and I think I remember that lunch lady! “Large Marge”, we called her. I’m so glad you told this story.

REAMUS: The entire lunch line cheered wildly when it happened. Shit you not.

NICK: The title of this album is only mildly disturbing. I have to say, i’m a little scared for my life right now.

REAMUS: After over 5 years of relentless touring nationwide, recording albums in my deaf grandpa’s garage, and pummeling various record companies with our demo, we finally got signed by a major label. Sickly Records signed us to a 5-record deal! They thought that if Cannibal Corpse can do it, we sure as shit can. They inked us for 4 studios and a live album. Life couldn’t get any better if it was doused in a goat milk/blood cocktail.

NICK: Have any of you ever been arrested for assault or suspicion of murder?? Jesus H Christ, something needs to be done. This album sounds a little harder, a little heavier than previous efforts.

REAMUS: Yeah. Sonically, this album as a whole has all the ingredients for the soundtrack to hell. It sounds so undeniably evil. If the good lord Satan has any sense at all, he’d blast this one in hell’s elevators and while fucking his minions. “Indulge in the Festering Bulge” was a fitting end to one of my favorite albums. Funny backstory to that track- our drummer Linus (who we affectionately call by his stage name, FUCKHOLE) has a bit of a skin problem. There wasn’t a singular day in the studio in which he couldn’t be found playing with whatever skin deformity he had to cope with that week. Picking, poking, rubbing…the guy is the grossest fucking living organism on the planet at times. That being said, one day in between drum sessions i noticed him playing with this larger-than-usual pus-filled growth on his forearm. I go, “If you love it so much, why don’t you just eat the frickin thing”. He croaked out “Huh? Fug that”. I whipped a hundo out of my rattlesnake skin wallet and slapped the fucker down. I said, “You’ve got 30 seconds.” He looked at me, at the pustule, back at me, shrugged and went CHOMP with his fang-like incisors. I yelled out, “YES! INDULGE IN THE FESTERING BULGE!!!”

REAMUS: Pink Floyd had “The Wall”. Led Zeppelin had “Physical Graffiti”. Fuckers, this is our epic album: NECROMANTIC INCANTATIONS. The band and I wanted to plunge to the bottom of the murky depths of our creative genius for this one, so we camped out in an abandoned mental hospital to write this masterpiece. Sleepy Ridge Psychiactric Ward was built well before the concept of padded walls was thought of or cared about. Each cell in this hellhole told a different story. They were hollowed out completely. No furniture inside them except a cot that was mangled and ripped apart in most cases. The walls were untouched…covered in blood, shit, hatred and insanity. As soon as I set foot in the lobby, I knew we were in for a horrifying experience. The lyrics flowed. “Eat Your Hands to Please Satan” was derived from a story one of the crotchety old nurses told about a resident that got loose from his straight jacket one night and, well, went buckwild on his digits. She said she found him bloodied at the mouth, staring blankly at a pair of gnawed-apart, bony mitts.

NICK: I might be sick in a few minutes…do you happen to have a bucket nearby or should I just toss my lunch into this floor drain?

REAMUS: What a girl. Anyway, we were re-upped by Sickly Records after this one. Was there ever a doubt? We’ve been their most successful act since 1995. Funny thing, too. You wouldn’t believe how many acts like us are out there screaming hatefully about death & dismemberment. After our epic double-album dropped in early 2000, we took an opportunity to go on a brief hiatus with the live album slated for the year after. I fell into a funk up until 9/11. The events of that day sparked a newfound fiery inferno of hate inside me. I took aim at the war and our new terrorist enemies. “Savaged Upon the Savaged” was inspired by yet another dream I had in which I found myself hate-maiming Bin Laden atop a mountain of bomb-charred Al-Qaedan flesh.

REAMUS: Ever seen those “Faces of Death” movies? Frickin lame. Half of that junk is likely some poorly-produced fiction. The other half is a meager attempt at shock value. You want shock value? Try one of our records on for size and let your imagination go fucking crazy. It’ll get you amped for a cage fight. It’ll turn your hatred inside-out, thus liberating the soul!

NICK: Ever thought of doing televangelist work for the church of satan?

NICK: I have to ask…did you spend a lot of time alone as a kid? Drawing pictures of death scenes with red crayons, perhaps?

REAMUS: I discovered my affinity for death & dismemberment at a fairly young age. This affinity was aided by the fact that dad worked for a stuffed animal factory during my younger years. This enabled some experimental behavior and youthful exuberance in my bedroom involving red food coloring, a stolen butcher knife and plenty of spare time. “Butchered on Impulse” is a tune inspired by the fun my stuffed toys and I had back then. I would collect factory rejects that dad brought home and create murder scenes. A koala bear sporting red food coloring on his mouth and wielding a knife over an eviscerated Curious George corpse. A circle of Scooby Doo characters surrounding a Clifford the Big Red Dog being burned at the stake. That kind of fun!

NICK: *looking distraught* *holds up cell phone* I don’t get great cell service down here… *sweat pours down face*

REAMUS: *stares blankly* *laughs* Got a little experimental on this one. We slowed down the beat considerably for a few of the tunes. Sludgy, distorted rhythms and we mixed in some samples of horror movies in the background but don’t worry PETA, no animals were harmed during the making of this one. Maybe some humans, but…..psyche! Fuck you guys.

NICK: I am very uncomfortable in my own skin right now. But, alas, the show must go on…You know, greatest hits albums are so redundant. Re-packaging all the material your fans already own and all. At least you added some remixes and a couple new ones.

REAMUS: Went on hiatus after “We Hate the Living” dropped. Guys were tired. I was tired. We needed a greatest hits to come out in order to satisfy our recording contract. That, and it’s tough sometimes. This lifestyle. I mean, I live for this shit and all, but the human mind is conditioned to live and embrace LIFE. We love each other, have sex and reproduce. We CREATE LIFE. It’s part of our nature. Our genetic build. All this screaming about killing and eating fuckers can take its toll on a guy. We’ve been creating art “against the human grain” for almost 20 years. It was time. Time for me to play a little Call of Duty and refine my blood-worship tactics.

NICK: Dude, you keep talking!? Probably should’ve just called it a career. The fact that anybody takes you seriously still astounds me.

NICK: I can’t believe i’m gonna say this but, I like this one for some reason! What’s different?

REAMUS: Back, better than ever and with a newfound lust for gore. It’s either this, or I go clinically insane and spend my pathetic life in an asylum. Only in America! Well actually, Norway has some pretty bleak metal. Black metal, to be precise. Those guys scare ME. Anyway, we put forth some dynamite writing for this one. Seasoned veterans of murder/cannibalism, we’ve evolved into what one would consider the Godfathers of death jams. Check out the more inventive song titles here. “Lured to a Blood Party”, “Lance Chamber” and “Circle of Bloody Sin” were written during a Mojave Desert acid trip. Oh, the lengths we go to for solid jams.

NICK: Well, goddamn, that’s the last of it. Thanks so much for not harvesting my spleen!